In Your Dreams
by twisparks
Summary: She rarely left her river to venture into Reality, and never stayed out for long. Until Barton, Stark, and Thor had been taken prisoner in Helheim, she had no reason to. Now the Dreamweaver must guide the Avengers down Yggdrasil into the world beyond and back, but she might need a little more than magic to make it back. Loki/OC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

This was a recurring dream, one that did not fall into the category of either sweet or nightmare, but settled neatly somewhere between the two. Set in a huge, intricately detailed ballroom with full orchestra, the dreamer danced alone in the center, surrounded by waltzing couples. Iskeita stood alone by the wall, impressed by the boy's imagination. All of the couples had distinct, individual faces and clothes; the floor bore a pleasant design in red and white marble; the ceiling was a mosaic dome of the night sky. The orchestra had distinct harmonies coming from at least three sections. Details were usually more blurry in the dreams of children. She was fairly certain the dreamer didn't want to be a dancer, but he would rather be dancing with someone else than alone. The ballroom was heavy with his shame. The couples and musicians began to turn into stone, like they did every time. Soon, the boy was dancing alone in a silent room. He smiled in relief.

The room began to fade to white. The boy was waking up.

Iskeita bowed her head, smiling, and leaned back, slipping through the wall.

She found herself inside a house in the black of night. Iskeita followed the dreamer, a dwarf child, through the home unseen. It was eerily quiet but for the single roar of some monster in the distance. The child crept through the house, leaning against the walls for support. The dwarf's fear weighed heavily on the atmosphere, and it dragged itself through each step, filling with greater dread. Like in most dreams, the details were fuzzy and the universe only existed just around the dreamer. The small dwarf came to a room empty but for three larger dwarves lying in a pool of blue blood, dead. The dreamer screamed, crying. Iskeita looked at the dwarf for a moment before she lifted an open palm; the room brightened, and the blue receded. The three bigger dwarves, its family, sat up. Its mother moved forward to comfort it. The weight of the child's horror lifted, and she straightened her posture.

Falling through the wall of the dream, Iskeita smiled to herself. Nightmares were usually impossible to catch.

This next dream was much nicer. A man was driving a vague old car, and beside him sat his father. She gathered from the weight of the driver's relief that his father must have died in Reality, possibly many years ago. They seemed to be hashing out old memories.

"I knew he was out there somewhere," the old man said. "I spent months looking for him. Pity it took so long."

"I can't believe you made such a big deal out of him," the dreamer smirked. "He's way too serious. I can't imagine you two getting along."

Iskeita felt the white stone in her necklace burn. She phased through the car, left alone on the road with literal nothingness for miles around. She had drifted too far downstream, she realized, taking a deep breath and watching the car drive off into the distance. The stone burned again.

"Isk, Thor needs a favor from you. You remember him, right?" The cold voice rang out from the warm, white rock. "Please come here."

She held the stone carefully between her index and middle fingers. "Certainly, mother," Iskeita frowned. She gazed at the car, now little more than a dot in the distance. Suddenly, the road vanished from beneath her feet. This dreamer had to go back to Reality.

She might as well join him.

* * *

I realize this chapter was rather short. As it is the prologue and a short introduction, this is much shorter than a standard chapter will be. Chapter One should be up soon and (in theory) will be about three times as long. Anyway, this is my first story and I would appreciate any constructive feedback you may have to offer. Thanks for reading!


	2. Desperate Measures

**Chapter One**

**Desperate Measures**

* * *

_A man drove in a car with his father at his side, hurtling into nowhere. Staring forward into the void, he wondered where to begin. "So Dad…we finally found your friend Steve."_

"_I knew he was out there somewhere," the old man grinned. "I spent months looking for him. Pity it took so long. I never got to say goodbye."_

"_I can't believe you made such a big deal out of him. He's way too serious. I can't imagine you two getting along."_

"_He's a soldier, kiddo," his father shrugged. "I don't know what you were expecting. Also, adjusting to a future like that's gotta be tough. I can't even begin to imagine it._

"_It's not so bad," the dreamer shrugged. "I miss you, Dad."_

"_Don't worry. I'll be seeing you soon enough."_

"_I...don't even know what to think of that." The dreamer stared out at the road ahead. He could only see a few feet in front of him, as the rest was completely surrounded by a vague white haze, but he wasn't concerned by it. "Dad?"_

"_Yeah, Tony?"_

"_If we meet up again, I need to show you my suit."_

_His father beamed. "I'd like that."_

* * *

Freyja smiled nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her perfect golden curls cascaded behind her, almost brushing the ground. "I assure you, when she gets here, she'll be able to get an answer out of him," she nodded, staring through the cell bars. Beside her stood Thor, the son of her closest friend, and a handful of his comrades she was unfamiliar with. Inside the cell, of course, was Loki. He stared at the ground in front of him, refusing to acknowledge the stares of the small crowd clustered around him.

"If we weren't able to get a response with all of you magic and power," Steve Rogers began, doing his best to mask his anxiety, "it may be easiest to resort to brute force."

"We're not trying to start another war here," Fury replied curtly. "But we don't have forever with this. If we don't get an answer out of this guy before tomorrow, then I'm afraid we'll have to." Fury turned to leave and glowered at Tony before exiting the cell block. Banner leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder. Tony jolted awake and jumped up from where he had been sleeping.

"Has he said anything?" he yawned.

"Not yet," Thor answered regretfully. "But Lady Freyja has requested assistance from her daughter, who may be able to help us."

"Okay," Stark nodded. For once, he was at a loss to produce a witty comment. He was busy trying to remember his dream. He was pretty sure his father had been there, and they were driving…somewhere. What were they discussing, exactly? He looked over at Banner, who was staring forward blankly. Natasha was pacing up and down between the cells, too anxious to sit still.

A small patch of fog began to form in front of Freyja. She hummed in delight. The patch quickly grew denser, turning into a near-replica of Freyja, bearing the same blonde curls and silver eyes. The replica, however, had hair only half the length of her mother's, and wore no armor. Her face looked marginally more worn and exhausted, and her hair was wild where her mother's curls were neat and precise.

"This is new," Stark muttered, taken aback. The newcomer laughed quietly in response as her mother attempted to no avail to set her hair straight.

"Lady Iskeita!" Thor exclaimed, stepping forward to embrace her, lifting her off the ground. "I am glad to see you after these many years!"

"Good to see you too," she answered weakly. She attempted a grin at Stark, whose smirk was growing by the second. "Where is this? What do you need my help with, exactly?"

Thor set her down, and she surveyed the rest of the group as her mother began spewing her greetings.

"It's so lovely to see you, darling," Freyja said with an abnormally wide smile. She began to brush the shoulder of her daughter's dress, trying to get the dust off. "It's been far too long since we've last spoken. What have you been doing? Fought any battles lately? Have you met anyone?"

"No, Mother" she replied, forcing herself to smile. She looked to Thor uneasily, inviting him to interrupt Freyja's unremitting chatter. "Where is this?"

"Midgard."

"I know that," she nodded, "I meant...what is this building, exactly?"

"This is the headquarters of a human military intelligence organization I fought with many moons ago. One of our close comrades has disappeared," Thor explained. "This place, S.H.I.E.L.D., has determined that he is not on this planet—,"

"—But we also know that he disappeared while Thor was on earth," Rogers cut in, "and it turns out Loki here wasn't anywhere to be found in Asgard at that time, either."

Iskeita glanced through the bars uneasily. Her mother scowled. "Have you gotten any grandchildren for me yet?"

"No, Mother," Iskeita said kindly, not breaking eye contact with the Captain. "Who is this, exactly? Let me guess…you want me to find out what Loki did?"

"His name is Agent Clint Barton. And, yes, if you can actually do that," Romanoff frowned. "What are you the god of, exactly?"

"None of you even asked me what _my_ domain is," Freyja scowled.

"It's not anything huge, really," Iskeita answered politely. "I'm the guardian of Fljotdraumer." Thor nodded approvingly, but the blank stares in the faces of her four companions rustled her confidence. "You guys know what Fljotdraumer is, right?"

"Listen, even _I_ have no idea what that means," Banner sighed.

"It's a river," Loki muttered from behind bars, irked by the banter invading his silence.

Iskeita laughed. "That indeed is the simplest explanation."

Thor looked at her. "I understand that you prefer not to intervene in matters such as these, Isk. Understand we would not bother you were we not desperate." He gestured to Natasha, who unlocked the cell in one fluid movement.

"I'm not offended by your request." She walked into the cell doorway, observing Loki carefully. He sat quietly at the edge of his cot, glaring down at the ground. He would be easy enough to talk to if she could make sure he wasn't angry. Suppressed rage fueled his silence. "However, I very well may withhold the answers you seek unless I believe it appropriate to betray his secrets. And I rarely deem these things so."

Thor's companions fell silent, considering whether it would be easier to force an answer out of Loki or this strange new Isk girl.

"No daughter of mine is going to betray a member of the Æsir," Freyja sneered.

"Wait, what is she going to do?" Banner asked quietly.

"I guess we've arrived at an impasse, Mother," Iskeita said, forcing a small smile to stay plastered to her face as she grabbed the bars framing the cell doorway, almost gliding into the cell toward Loki's cot. He looked up at her, still glaring. She smiled at him kindly. "As now I must betray either this one or that one." She leaned forward, speaking quietly, "Would you lie down, please?"

He continued to glower at her; unblinking, unmoving.

"That's fine, that's fine," she laughed nervously. "Now if you forget anything, you can just come ask me afterwards." She leaned forward, grabbing his shoulders, and planted a light kiss on his forehead. Immediately, Loki's eyes closed and his head slumped forward.

"Still no explanation as to who the hell she is," Stark mused quietly.

"This might take a while," Iskeita said, leaning Loki back until he was lying down. She picked up his feet carefully to align him correctly and placed the small pillow S.H.I.E.L.D. had been kind enough to provide under his head. She turned back to Thor's team. They barely betrayed any emotion, and as far as Iskeita could tell, they were only slightly puzzled. "The timing with these things is never realistic on my end. Please relax while I'm gone."

She shied away from her mother's scowl. As far as she could discern, this group of people was much more desperate than they were letting her know. She smiled brightly at them, closed her eyes, and faded away the same way she had arrived.

Natasha stared at the cell, now empty except for Loki's sleeping form. She could feel her anger brewing. "Thor, what _was_ that? How, precisely, is this supposed to be helpful? Now we can't even interrogate him. She said herself she probably won't give us the answers we need."

Rogers nodded. "Listen, I know you want to handle how we deal with your brother, but Clint could be _dead_ right now for all we know."

"Nope, he's not dead," Bruce Banner replied. "If he was dead, S.H.I.E.L.D. would have been able to find him. He has a practically indestructible tracking device with him at all times. …Although I would enjoy hearing your explanation for what just happened, Thor."

"She explained her powers quite clearly," Thor frowned.

"I don't think any of us know what a Flotdromer is, Point-Break," Stark smirked.

"_The_ Fljotdraumer," Freyja corrected him, staring through the bars at the sleeping Loki. "It's the river Dream. That's where she spends her time. Not fighting battles, not hunting, not looking for a man to marry…"

"She has friends?" Thor asked, trying to present it as an honest question.

"Somehow I doubt it," Natasha muttered to herself. These so-called-"gods" just kept getting weirder and weirder. "So she's interrogating him in a_ dream_?"

"Yes," Freyja nodded. "Not even the god of lying has the wits about him to lie convincingly in a dream. Even so, we should probably step outside so that he doesn't wake up."


	3. Bare Feet

**Chapter Two**

**Bare Feet**

* * *

_He was in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s aircraft carrier again. It was just like before, where he and Natasha had fallen through the lab floor to some sort of storage unit below. He remembered the pain from last time, but it wasn't nearly as bad this time. He didn't think much of it. _

_Oh, no. Here it came again—the tunnel vision, the ears ringing. He could feel his shirt rip as he ballooned upward, he could see his arms turning the most disgusting shade of green, and he was filled with overwhelming anger. _

_Next, he was supposed to charge toward his fallen teammate, he remembered. He looked up to where she should have been lying, but she wasn't there._

_Nobody was. There were no guards headed downstairs in a sad attempt to restrain him, no teammates upstairs responding to the attack. Banner sat down in confusion, making a considerable dent in the wall behind him. If Natasha _hadn't_ been there at that time, what would he have attacked instead? Nothing here was brittle or explosive enough to make it interesting._

_It would be so much nicer if I could think like this all the time, the green giant thought. His self control reassured him as he leaned back, relaxing, careful not to damage anything._

* * *

"Welcome," Isk smiled as Loki faded into the blank void. She stood facing away from him.

"…Hello," Loki nodded, taking a step toward her. Why was her back turned?

"Why don't you put this on…" she said sheepishly, handing him a bundle of dark green fabric over her shoulder.

Loki stared at it, curious. What could he possibly need that for? He took it out of her hand to examine the habit-like robe, the fabric brushing over his bare chest. He was completely naked, he realized, and pulled the robe over his head. "Right."

"Don't worry yourself," she laughed nervously, turning around. "Most people come through not wearing anything."

"You're…Iskeita?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. He was slightly taller than her; she had to look up meet his eyes. However, her posture, voice, and plastered smile gave off the air that she was in complete control of the situation. It bothered him. She seemed very familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he'd seen her before. His mind and senses were left foggy by the comforting blankness surrounding them. "Were you just talking to me?"

"You've got it."

"Do I know you from somewhere before that?" he asked, sitting down. A rock appeared from nowhere to accommodate him.

"Sort of," she said, sitting on another suddenly-there rock across from him. "I spent most of my childhood at my mother's side, and she took me with her to all of Frigga's parties. I spent a lot of time arguing with Thor about battle tactics. Oh, and when we were a bit older, you, Thor, and I also participated in a melee-style sparring contest at some point with a lot of other children. We were on the same team, but I didn't talk to you much."

"If I recall correctly, you spent most of it arguing with Thor over strategy," he smirked. Another rock appeared between them with a bottle of mead and two glass tankards. He glanced around, realizing that the world around them beyond their small rocky arrangement was completely blank, as if shrouded in fog. "Isk, where are we?"

"I'd like think this is...Vanaheim," she decided, leaning forward to pour out the mead. As she did so, a grassy field spread before them, speckled with tiny white clovers and ending in a forest of blue barked pine trees with white needles. The sky above them became an array of yellow and orange, illuminated by a star rising in the distance. "Have you ever been here?"

"Never," he replied, sliding his bare feet over the cold, dewy grass. "You're Vanir. You grew up in a place like this?"

"Yes," she nodded, taking a sip. "While the realm of Asgard is a beautiful, floating city in the sky, Vanaheim is filled with meadows and forests like these—although the trees and grasses come in all different colors. We live in villages like that over there—," she pointed to a cluster of crystal spheres in the far distance, floating in the sky, barely visible over the white treetops, "—in order to let the plants grow in peace. We do spend much of our day at ground level, of course. Those spheres over there are connected by a spider's web of chains to keep them from floating too far apart. Most of the villages really small, with no more than thirty spheres. Everything in this realm is really spread out."

Loki put down his tankard. "…What's a spider?"

"Oh, those are a Midgardian thing…never mind. Um, a net," she shrugged. "A net of chains connect the houses."

He stared at her uneasily, trying to remember how he had come to be in Vanaheim. Was this a dream?

"So Loki," she said cautiously, staring at her own bare feet. "Why did Barton disappear?"

"What?"

"Barton," Iskeita smiled, trying to hold his gaze. "The S.H.I.E.L.D. warrior. You're currently being held because apparently, you had something to do with it."

"I did not!" he exclaimed, raising his voice.

Isk blinked uneasily, and forced her voice to stay level. "Are you sure you have no idea what happened to him?"

"No!" he growled, standing up. "Just because I've caused them trouble before doesn't mean I'm the only possible option. This is getting ridiculous. I _love_ to take credit for the trouble I cause. Hasn't anybody realized that?"

"I was unaware," Iskeita nodded, gesturing for him to return to his seat. "But then we have another problem on our hands. If you don't know what happened to him, then we have to figure out where he's gone."

"We?" he asked incredulously. "I am not going to involve myself with a case of a mere missing mortal. An enemy from my past."

"Loki," Isk smiled brightly, trying to recover the situation. She stood up and rose until she was looking down at him by several inches. "The bifrost is broken. The Vanir have no such method of transport to offer. Without the bifrost, there is no way to arrive directly wherever they are. Whichever realm he's been taken...fallen into, it's going to take more than a bit of magic to get there, recover him safely, and return. It's not as though we can tell him where to meet us."

"What makes you care so much for this puny mortal?" he sneered, looking up into her face.

"Loki, you're familiar with my mother Freyja, right?"

"And?"

"She is commander of the forces of Folkvangr in Helheim, who will be fighting the forces of Valhalla in Ragnarok. Half of all fallen warriors live there—_all_ fallen warriors. From each of the eight other realms. When this 'Barton' _actually_ dies, he may very well end up in Folkvangr, and I don't want him to have a problem trusting me."

Loki thought for a moment, trying to ignore Ragnarok's implications. "He won't know you didn't act to locate him."

"The dead know everything, Loki," she sighed. "They just don't care enough to share it with the living."

Loki glanced down, noticing that Isk's normally too-long white dress was just barely brushing the ground. He reached forward, grabbing the fabric on the outside of her thigh, and lifted her skirt enough to see her feet were crossed neatly at her ankles, well over a foot in the air. "You're flying."

"Yes?" she nodded, eyeing the hand on her outer thigh uneasily. She reached forward and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up until his feet were level with hers. "Happy now?"

"I'm never happy."

She laughed, leaning back and holding her knees against her chest. Loki watched her, curious, until she collected herself.

"You haven't lied to me, have you?"

"What a horrible question to ask," he smirked, trying to float backward. Much to his dismay, he ended up leaning back until he was floating horizontally. "How do you do this?"

"It takes a bit of practice," she laughed. "Well, that's all I have to ask you. We have to wake up now."

"I'm not letting you drag me on a wild goose chase," he said, scrambling to upright himself. "My magic is being held captive by Odin. I couldn't help you even if I did desire to. Anyway, I was wondering...if your mother is commander at Folkvangr, and Odin commander at Valhalla, how is it that she and his wife came to be friends as they are?"

"I honestly have no idea," she shrugged, pushing Loki back down to earth. "But Frigga is the only person my mother truly seems to care for besides herself."

"She seems to care for you?"

"She cares about making sure I'm just like her," she shrugged. "Listen. I would like to help S.H.I.E.L.D. locate Barton at the very least. Unless they explicitly ask for assistance, we will not help them recover him. I'm sure they have a big enough problem trusting us already."

The pair took a moment to drink in silence. Loki admired the details in the pine trees, where each needle truly seemed to be growing. They even smelled like pine. Well, more like pine mixed with some sort of blue cocktail. He wanted to remember the smell of those trees; there was nothing like them in Asgard, Midgard or Jotunnheim, the only three realms he had visited.

"…Isk, do you know when Ragnarok will be?"

"Not for a long time," she smiled softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, we have to go back now. I'll wake you up as soon as I get back."

"So this _was_ a dream?"

"You know it, darling," she winked, fading away.

Loki sat down and finished his mead, alone. He looked down at the robe she had provided him, and the images of Vanaheim that had sprung from her mind. The field was filled with tiny individual blades, growing wildly alongside white clovers. He felt the smooth texture of each blade carefully as he dragged his bare feet through the field. The precision in the detail was truly something to behold. He desired that kind of power; the powers to exercise complete control and be master of all his surroundings. After his recent failure on earth, it seemed unlikely that another plan to hold such power would ever be possible. All he had to look forward to now was dying at world began to fade into white. The textures smoothed out into one surface, and the smell turned from fresh pine to slightly musty, tinged with a small amount of mold.

* * *

Loki opened his eyes slowly, suddenly aware of the stiff cot underneath him and the rigid armor he wore. How had he fallen asleep? He tried to recall the conversation in the field. There was mead. Ragnarok came up. They were in Vanaheim. Who was they? There was flying involved. The details fled from his memory.

"Wake up, Loki," came a soft, feminine voice. Loki squinted, sitting up slowly. In front of him was Iskeita, with one hand on his forehead.

She was there. In the dream. She was the one he spoke to. What was it they talked about? He looked at her carefully, ignoring the six anxious faces peering through the cell bars. He scowled, leaning forward, lifting her skirt slightly again.

She was still floating, bare feet with ankles neatly crossed.

He let the soft, white fabric fall to the ground. She leaned forward, and whispered softly, "Please try not to do that in public." He glanced up and realized that her usual forced smile was tinted with discomfort.

He pulled his hand back sleepily, still trying to recover the details of their discussion.

"What exactly did you two get up to in there?" Freyja asked, now slightly nervous.

"You _are_ going to tell us what he said, aren't you?" Natasha scowled. "He did say_ something_, didn't he?"

"You guys did _talk_, didn't you?" Tony smirked. "Madame Rohypnol?"

"Of course we did," Isk nodded, grinning playfully as she glided slowly out of the cell. "If he didn't say a word to any of you, then my results aren't marginally different. He had nothing to do with it."

Banner sighed. "He probably lied to you."

"I would know if he lied," she said, still smiling. "Regardless, the General has prevented him from using any magic. There's no way he could have sent your comrade to another realm. And even if he did, he would have a fake alibi ready to provide for you. Also, he prefers to take credit for the pain he causes. I think he may have been silent because he was unprepared."

"Unprepared to be caught," Natasha frowned.

"You must be lying for him," Steve growled. "You don't know him the way we do. This man is the type to be prepared for anything at anytime. You said yourself you wouldn't betray a person's secrets unless you deemed in 'appropriate.' What does 'appropriate' even mean?"

"Calm down," she shrugged, gesturing for Loki to stand. He raised one eyebrow. She looked at the Captain. "I realize all of you are pretty anxious and you just want your teammate back. But firstly, you don't get to make claims like that without me calling you out on it. Here on your planet there's a popular philosophy called 'innocent until proven guilty.' You cannot count me as ignorant of Midgardian culture as these Asgardians. I make sure to spend a fair share of time in _every_ realm."

"And secondly?" Stark inquired.

"And secondly, Thor," she said, turning to face him. "You, your brother, and I must pay the General a visit immediately. If he can return some of Loki's magic temporarily, the two of us together can use a spell to locate your friend." She paused, trying to ignore the blatant lack of enthusiasm from behind her. "How did the two of you come to be in Midgard?"

Loki stared at the two of them silently, eyes narrowed.

"It took much of Odin's magic to send me here," Thor replied. "Loki used a…hidden passageway of some sort which was already equipped with the magic necessary to carry him here."

"This is New York, isn't it? Did you use the one that feeds out into the abandoned subway track?"

Loki took a deep breath before replying "No." He rose, having finally found the motivation to stand. To be able to use his magic again seemed too good to be true—without magic, it felt as though one of his arms was tied behind his back, itching to stretch and move. He surveyed the humans before him with contempt, his eyes finally landing on Freyja. Her face was slightly contorted, as if she was doing everything possible to restrain herself from speaking.

"We're coming to Asgard with you," Natasha said curtly. "We want Agent Barton back as soon as possible, and we will not accept any delays."

Isk looked to her mother with wide eyes and an uncomfortable smile, as if begging her to speak.

"No!" Freyja exclaimed. "You mustn't do that. The air in Asgard is so thin that any mortal to go there would most certainly die."

"…Really?" Thor asked, unpleasantly surprised.

"Yes," Iskeita nodded, her smile fading into a blank line. "It would be death by slow suffocation for anyone who grew up breathing Midgardian air. It is a truly horrible thing to witness." The four humans fell silent. Iskeita removed her necklace, holding it by the small white stone pendant. She took Natasha's hand and placed it in her palm. "If you hold this necklace between your index and middle fingers, your voice will be heard through its partner." She turned to Freyja, who held up a gold bracelet set with a similar stone.

"Darling, I have to fly back to Vanaheim to prepare some materials to help assist you with your spell," she said, putting the bracelet around her daughter's wrist. "Please do _some_ fighting, won't you?"

"I do not plan to," Iskeita replied, flinching slightly at her mother's warm embrace.

"Thor, Loki, it has been good to see the two of you. Please take care of my daughter."

"As though she is my sister," Thor nodded, smirking somewhat sarcastically.

"Of course," Freyja laughed. "Thank you." She waved her hand and pulled a cloak out of midair—a huge piece of fabric covered from top to bottom with falcon feathers. As she put it on, her already slender form grew thinner and shorter, until only a falcon remained.

"Goodbye, Mother," Iskeita waved passively as Freyja flew up the stairs and out the open door.

"So we're going to the New York Subway?" Thor asked, watching Loki step into the cell doorway silently. "I imagine it will be fascinating."

Loki inhaled deeply. "Prepare to be massively underwhelmed."

Thor began to lead the team up the stairs out of the holding block. Loki glared up at them, reluctant to follow. "It's interesting," Isk mused, pushing him slightly forward, "the way your brother acts as though everything is fine between the two of you. Now walk."

* * *

_note: It seems as though my updates on this are probably not going to follow any particular schedule and will end up bending to the will of my inspiration. Hopefully that will be pretty often. Again, as this is my first story, I would appreciate any constructive reviews you have to give. Thanks for reading, everybody!_


	4. Face-First

**Chapter Three**

**Face-First**

* * *

"_My beloved Jane, where are we?"_

"_This is New Mexico, remember?" she laughed, throwing her head back. They were surrounded by an absolute jungle of greenery; fresh, humid, and very much alive._

"_I thought the land of New Mexico was a desert," he replied, planting a light kiss on her lips._

"_It will be," she nodded, taking a step back. "One day all of this will be gone."_

_A wild wind overtook them, blowing Jane's hair up into his face. The leaves began to fall, and the skeletons of trees and bushes turned black and began to wither away, falling to the ground in a pile of soot. He looked back at Jane, but in her place was a frail old woman._

"_No…"_

"_One day all of this will be gone," she repeated as she turned into dust and disappeared into the wind._

_Thor fell to his knees, crushed by the weight of his solitude. "…I love you."_

* * *

"…Isk?"

"Yes?" she nodded, jumping at the chance to ignore the intimate goodbyes between Thor and a human woman. "Pardon, I don't think we have actually been introduced."

"My name is Natasha Romanoff," the red-haired woman replied. "How much do you intend to be involved in Barton's recovery?"

"I'm not sure," Isk shrugged. She had exchanged her simple long white dress for a turquoise tribal print maxi, tan leather jacket, and tan satchel. "After we have located your comrade, I will provide as much assistance as necessary. However, I seriously doubt he's further away than Alfheim. The light elves have a history of borrowing beings from the other realms."

"We just have to ask for him back?" Natasha inquired. "And they will return him?"

"Probably," Isk smiled. "Sorry, could you tell me who the rest of you are?"

"Well, you know Thor," she began, scanning the busy ground level of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. "His girlfriend, Jane, is an astrophysicist. The one in the coat over there is Fury, who runs this show. The guy talking to him is Banner, our resident gamma radiation expert. The shorter one over there is Stark, the only one of us besides Barton who is completely normal…for a human, anyway. He's a brilliant engineer and weapons specialist. Talking to him is Rogers, but we usually just call him Captain."

"Does he have a boat?"

Natasha smirked, looking away.

"You are not a normal human?" Isk asked.

"In most ways, I am," she said. "It's difficult to explain. I don't really age."

"I'm so sorry," Isk frowned.

"Why? Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"Well, you clearly care a great deal about your teammate Barton." Isk glanced over at Thor and Jane. "Your anxiety left you after I suggested where he might have landed. I don't mean to suggest anything, but for people like us, caring for mortals can be incredibly dangerous. I would know."

"I can't believe you got Loki to talk to you," Natasha said, eyeing the god of mischief carefully. He sat off to the side, staring at the ground absentmindedly. "I could count all the words he's said to us and I would still have fingers left."

"In Fljotdraumer," Isk clarified, "people completely drop their guard. They fold in arguments faster; they become more trusting of the people around them. The dreamer is never completely aware of what's happening around them, but they generally lack the motivation to question anything. I was hoping that he would speak as soon as he was no longer imprisoned, but it now seems unlikely."

"You don't hate him?"

"I do, I guess," Isk shrugged as Jane finally departed. "It's sort of a funny story. If you remind me later, I'll tell you. Thor, are you ready to go?"

"I am," he nodded solemnly.

Isk glanced over at Fury and Banner, who were still discussing what might happen after Barton was located.

"Thor, did you ask Heimdall where your friend disappeared to?"

Fury did not look happy.

"Yes," Thor smirked. "Do not take me so lightly. Apparently, something is keeping him out of Heimdall's sight."

"You should have mentioned that," Isk said absentmindedly. "We'll need to ask one of your parents to make the trek up to Hildskjaf."

"Where?" Natasha asked.

Fury gestured wildly before running a hand across his head. He turned and left, black coat swishing behind him.

"It is a point on one of the mountains surrounding Asgard," Thor explained, nodding for Tony and Steve to join them. "Odin and Frigga are the only ones who know of its exact location. From Hildskjaf, they can see all of the nine realms of Yggdrasil."

"I thought Yggdrasil was a tree," Stark smirked.

"It is a network of passages that is set up in a way that resembles a tree," Iskeita said. "In that you can usually only go from branch to branch if they're immediately linked. Without the bifrost, the tesseract, or a good falcon cloak, there is no way to reach a realm that you are not directly linked to if you don't want to use a dangerous amount of magic. And these links only work one way. Midgard only has outputs linked to Alfheim, and Muspelheim, if I recall correctly." Banner joined them, slightly irked by his exchange with Fury.

"Natasha, Steve," he began, handing them each a map and a set of directions, "You're going to be escorting these three onto the train listed. Stay with them until they get off. Make sure to loop the train's security cameras. This should be really simple, and I'm not expecting any trouble. Listen, it's up to you to make sure he doesn't kill anyone. Thor, Isk…don't let him out of your sight. Natasha will check in with you every couple of hours. Be back soon."

"We depart now, Loki," Isk said, offering her hand to him. He brushed it aside and stood up silently.

* * *

The subway station was much too crowded for Loki, with filthy mortals clustered together as far as his keen eyes could see. It was so frustrating. Even Thor and his teammates surrounded him, with the red haired spy in front, the walking flag behind (although now he was indistinguishable from the crowds around him. Thor stood at his left hand, and the Vanir woman at his right. As soon as they entered the last car of the train, his contempt for these creatures boiled, and she linked her arm with his. As if that would keep him from going ballistic.

He wasn't planning on going ballistic. At least, not yet. Not here. He would never be able to find his way out again.

"This contraption you humans have designed is fascinating," Thor smiled, examining his surroundings. "How much further until we've reached the proper tunnel?"

"In a few minutes," she replied, staring intently at the dark tunnel outside the train.

"I would like to say that I never thought I'd be doing this," Rogers said, "but I say that pretty much every day."

"It's not every day you get to ride the subway with three different gods. Okay, Thor, you know how to phase through surfaces, right?"

"I am not one for magic, Isk."

"You really should have mentioned that earlier," she smiled awkwardly, spinning her mother's bracelet around her wrist nervously. She took her hand off of Loki's arm and moved until she stood just next to the wall. "I will have to phase the wall, then. You can walk through."

Loki finally looked up. "Is it time to go, then?"

"Yes. You're getting off with me as soon as Thor gets out."

She put one hand against the wall and concentrated as Natasha and Steve moved toward them in attempt to form some sort of human wall.

After several seconds, she looked away, frustrated. Loki sneered, putting his hand against the wall. It rippled and grew translucent.

"Thank you," Isk nodded. She took Thor's hand as he stepped off the train, grabbed Loki's hand, and passed through the wall herself. Loki fell out after her, stopping abruptly in midair; Isk was holding on to the both of them while floating several feet off the ground, trying to make sure they didn't crash.

"We can get down now, Isk," Thor chuckled.

"Right, right," she nodded breathlessly. They fell abruptly, but Isk settled several inches off the ground. Like normal for her, Loki supposed.

"It's down that tunnel up here," she said, floating forward in the darkness. As the brothers moved toward her voice, the tunnel was illuminated by firelight. Iskeita had taken some sort of weapon out of her satchel; a golden hilt with a blade made of bright orange flames.

"We need to hurry before someone spots us or we get run over," she said, gliding forward. "Try to keep up."

As she began to pick up speed, Isk started to tune out the footsteps of the brothers behind her. It was a long tunnel, and the portal entrance was almost at the end. Hopefully she would remember how to open it wide enough for three people; she had only ever travelled alone or with only one other passenger before, usually her mother. That was from Asgard to Vanaheim, however, and was necessitated by her poor flight skills.

"We're here," she said, turning around. To her surprise, the brothers were right behind her. Surely her gliding had been faster than they could run? They were gods, remember.

An intricate pattern was spread across the tunnel wall; the same pattern that appeared whenever the Bifrost had connected with the ground. She reached forward and drew her right hand clockwise around the circle's edge. Nothing.

"Left hand, counterclockwise," Loki reminded her.

"Right. Sorry," she laughed nervously, drawing an opposite circle. Following her finger was a white light, spreading until the entire circle was filled with it. She fidgeted with her hands slightly when the flame from her sword vanished. She put the hollow, empty hilt away, and took a step toward the bright white circle. "Something seems wrong."

Loki took a deep breath. "It's too weak. It'll close after one person goes through." He stepped forward and drew the same circle. The mellow white light became blinding. "Here we go. Strong enough for three people." He took another step forward and jumped into it before disappearing from view.

"Hurry, Thor," Isk said, pushing him through. The circle grew dimmer. She took a deep breath before pulling her knees to her chin and floating into the circle, which closed abruptly behind her.

The two of them were falling. Up. She could see Thor and Loki above her as they fell, spinning and tumbling left and right through the tunnel of light. She was floating in place, completely unmoving. She stretched her legs, uncrossed her ankles and felt the tug of whatever lied above them. Immediately, she was falling upwards as helplessly as the pair of brothers above her.

She could see why her mother preferred to use the cloak.

They crashed out of the light onto the ground of the other side, and everything went dark. After a few minutes of lying still, consumed by the pain of her landing, Isk peeled herself off of the Asgardian ground. She turned her head to see Loki and Thor, who were also suffering from the pain of the trip. Thor had landed face first and seemed to be unconscious. Loki was lying flat on his back with open eyes, completely still. The three of them were strewn across a dirt path next to a river, at least a day's walk from any major settlement. She stood up, stretching, and brushed the dirt off of her dress. A wave of nausea struck her, and she fell face first back to the ground. She rolled over onto her back, waiting for her eyes to adjust and for the aching to subside.

Right. She was in Asgard now, and this clothing was incredibly out of place. She focused and magically changed back into her normal white dress, this time adding a golden yolk that went halfway up her neck and a golden belt separating the fitted torso and the flowing straight skirt, each sharing similar spiral engravings. Her wild blonde hair remained the same, bearing some sort of magic so powerful even the most powerful potions could not tame it.

"Thor? Loki?" she asked, sitting up. Loki looked over at her groggily, covered in a cold sweat. He glanced at Thor and stood up. Isk knelt down next to the blond god and flipped him over. "Thor, wake up," she said quietly, stunned by the sound of her own voice. No response.

"He's out cold," Loki said evenly.

She grabbed one of Thor's hands and pulled him over her shoulder, struggling slightly with his weight. She jumped up and stopped, floating about a foot off the ground. The toes of Thor's boots were still dragging against the dirt. "Well, I guess that can't be helped. Do you know which way the palace is from here?"

"I thought you were supposed to be the one who was familiar…" Loki's voice caught in his throat. His frown softened, and he raised his hand to his neck.

"Is something wrong? Are you going to vomit?" Isk asked, backing away from him.

"No, nothing's wrong," Loki said, puzzled. He looked up and pointed to a mountain almost on the horizon. "That's the palace."

"Should we teleport there? Will he think it's rude?"

"I would do that," he growled, "but I think I'm still recovering from that…fall. I doubt I can aim at a time like this."

"I know a bit of magic too, remember," she frowned, readjusting Thor on her shoulder. "I'll help us aim. I am not going to carry this guy all the way to the palace. It's like his bones are made of rocks. If I aim, can you get us there?"

He stepped over and put a hand on her empty shoulder. "Aim," he said quietly.

She visualized the palace. She'd entered it through the front door for countless Yule celebrations, and she could remember every last detail. She pictured where they would stand; immediately in front of the tall gold double doors. She cleared her throat. "Fire."

In between the trail and the palace, Isk's gut rose up into her throat. Teleporting wasn't often unpleasant, but usually she was the one in control of the spell. The air vanished from her lungs, and the air around her was all in a cold whirl of wind. Then, as soon as it began, the sensation ended. She coughed violently, as if her lungs were desperately trying to expunge the frigid air of the white tunnel.

When her coughing ended, she realized two long lines of guards were pointing spears into their faces.

"We seek audience with the General," she said. "We carry Thor and an urgent request from Midgard."

"You may pass," one guard said. The tall doors opened by themselves, swinging silently on silver hinges. "Five guards will escort you to the throne room."

Five guards left the lines to form a circle around the trio. They shepherded them forward.

"You aren't even going to help me with this?" Isk asked the guards, jerking her head at the still-unconscious Thor. They remained silent. "It seems so odd to be going in like this. Don't the two of you live here?"

"I have been deemed incredibly untrustworthy as of late," Loki smiled darkly. "I'm surprised they haven't re-imprisoned me already for leaving Asgard."

"You were imprisoned before?" she replied quietly, staring at awe at the golden grandeur. They passed through another pair of tall, golden doors. "What did you do?"

"Perhaps another time." Loki had to force himself to breathe evenly. Odin was seated in his throne at the end of the hall—a throne that rightfully belonged to him. Frigga stood at his right hand, and Isk could feel her eyes examine her. The five guards stopped and stood at attention next to the doors, allowing Loki and Isk to walk down the hall alone.

"How interesting this is," Odin chuckled as they stopped before him. "The last time my sons returned from earth, this arrangement was almost completely reversed."

"Odin," Isk began, "Is there somewhere Thor can rest until he awakens?"

"Guards, take him into the back chambers," Odin said, raising his hand. Two guards appeared behind her suddenly and relieved her of Thor's quietly snoring body.

Isk pursed her lips, frustrated that no one had seen to him sooner. Were they _that_ afraid of Loki that they wouldn't go near them without Odin watching? She looked up at the platform and noticed Frigga's eyes darting between Loki, Thor, and herself. She cleared her throat and whispered something into Odin's ear. He nodded, and she followed the guards and Thor out of the throne room.

"I assume you're going to explain yourselves," Odin frowned.

"We didn't do anything to Thor, exactly," Isk laughed nervously, speaking far too quickly. "The portal we used for the trip back turned out to be somewhat unstable. I believe it had no effect on Loki and myself because we have experience in such travel. He should recover soon. Anyway, we have come to make a request of you. One of Thor's comrades from Loki's attempted taking over of Midgard, name of Clint Barton, has completely vanished. I don't know if he informed you as such before he left, but even Heimdall cannot find him. We would like to request that you attempt to locate him from Hildskjaf."

"Are you certain this man is not dead?"

"Fairly," she nodded. "As soon as you've located him we'll be on our way, if you'd be so kind."

"I will see to it immediately," he nodded gently. He stood up and walked toward the side

"That was easier than I thought it was going to be," Isk muttered. She turned to Loki, who was visibly fuming with rage. "Is something wrong?"

"He won't even look at me," he seethed.

A feminine scream penetrated the back wall of the throne room. Odin stopped in his tracks as the door opened and Frigga and the two guards rushed out. Tears were starting to stream down Frigga's face, and the guards were visibly shocked.

"What happened?" Odin asked quickly.

"My son!" she sobbed. "My son—my darling son has been taken from me!"

"What in the nine realms are you talking about?" Odin replied quietly. Frigga opened her mouth to speak but her words were consumed with more quiet sobs.

"He just disappeared," one of the guards explained. "We set him down and stood there for a moment when he just vanished. He left his hammer behind, though."

"Iskeita, daughter of Freyja," Odin said, turning back to the side wall. "I have to try to locate my son. Your Barton may have to wait." He disappeared through a smaller doorway in the back corner of the room.

Isk looked at Frigga, unsure of what to do. She glided forward and took the sobbing woman into her arms, and Frigga muffled her cries against Isk's shoulder. Isk held her tightly. Loki awkwardly put his hand on his mother's shoulder, trying to offer some kind of support.

Isk looked up at him, her eyes narrowed.

Loki met her gaze, and realized what she must have been thinking. "Really? I was standing next to you the _whole time!_"


End file.
